


As Tears Go By

by noalinnea



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-04 14:44:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noalinnea/pseuds/noalinnea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four times Sean and Viggo spend the holidays apart and one time they spend them together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Tears Go By

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** This is a work of fiction and the characters in this story are not to be confused with real people.
> 
>  **A/N:** The title is borrowed from my favorite _Rolling Stones_ song.

** 2000 **

Sean pulled his robe more tightly around himself and hid a yawn behind his coffee cup. On the living room floor his daughters were busy unpacking their presents, surrounded by a growing sea of wrapping paper that eager hands had ripped apart.

"Alright, I'll get some more coffee," he said to none of them in particular, receiving three nods in return. Through the open kitchen door he could see their heads bent over the presents, could hear their laughter and their excited exclamations and he caught himself smiling when he reached for the coffee thermos. There was just enough left for one more cup. Excellent.

He had just added a bit of milk to his coffee when the phone rang. Absentmindedly he picked up the receiver while he shoved the fridge door shut with his knee.

"Hello?" Nothing but static. "Hello?" Sean repeated. There was a pause, a loud crackling noise and then, finally, a familiar voice: "Sean?"

For the second time in five minutes Sean caught himself smiling involuntarily.

"Hey you," he said, and his smile widened when he noted his change of tone. Softer, much more intimate.

"Hej," Viggo replied, his voice just as soft. "Is this a bad time?"

"Not at all. I just took a tour to the kitchen to get more coffee," Sean answered, laughing. "The girls are next door, unpacking their presents."

He could practically hear Viggo's smile. "Hurry back to them, then. You don't want to miss all the fun!"

"In a moment," he said. And after a short pause he added: "It's good to hear your voice."

Viggo hummed. "It is." There was a soft chuckle. "That's what I'm calling for- I wanted to hear your voice before going to bed."

Sean felt a fresh smile tugging at his lips. "It's in the middle of the night at your end, you crazy bugger," he said, trying to sound stern, but failing spectacularly.

Viggo just laughed. "As if you have any objections," he said teasingly.

"You're right, I don't," Sean admitted.

"Good," Viggo said. A couple of heart beats passed in silence and Sean closed his eyes, swallowing against the sudden tightness in his throat.

Then Viggo's voice returned. "Open your present later, when you're alone, hm?"

"I will," Sean promised. "Tonight, before I go to bed."

"Call me then?"

Sean hummed in affirmation.

"I'm looking forward to talking to you," Viggo said softly.

"Me too," Sean heard himself say.

In the living room something clattered to the floor and Sean sighed. "Lorna?" he called over his shoulder.

"It's fine, dad, it's not broken," his daughter answered.

Next to his ear he could hear Viggo chuckle. "Go," he said. "And have a good day!"

"Sleep tight, Vig."

"Hm, I will, now that I got to talk to you," Viggo replied quietly.

"Daa-aad?" Two out of three now.

"Coming!" he hurried to call before turning back towards the receiver. "Viggo, I-"

"I know, you need to go!" Viggo laughed.

"I do," Sean sighed, wedging the receiver between his ear and shoulder. "I'll call you tonight, alright?"

"Absolutely. And Sean?"

"Yes?" he said, picking up his coffee cup and making his way towards the living room.

Viggo chuckled. "Merry Christmas!"

 

** 2004 **

The house was dark when he returned. He shrugged out of his coat and set the bag of groceries onto the floor before he stepped out of his shoes and made his way to the kitchen.

Viggo was sitting at the table, staring out into the rapidly darkening evening, one leg drawn up onto the chair next to him, his elbow resting on his knee.

"Vig?" he asked from the doorway, instantly worried.

Viggo turned around slowly, a frown on his face. "Hej," he said, sounding weary.

Unceremoniously, Sean dropped his keys onto the kitchen counter and walked over to the table. "What's the matter?" he asked, his concern clear in his voice.

Viggo shook his head, then sighed. "Exene called," he said quietly, reaching out for Sean's arm and pulling him close. "She's in the hospital."

Sean thought he could hear their plans collapse around them with a roar but he tried to hide his disappointment. He lifted his hands to gently card his fingers through Viggo's hair. "When is your flight?" he asked, the only question that really made sense. Of course he would have to go. They both knew it.

Viggo regarded him in silence for a long moment. Then he just wrapped his arms around his waist, pulled him close and buried his face in his sweater.

"Tomorrow morning," he said into the wool, before his face reappeared and Sean watched him sink his teeth into his lower lip. "I'm so sorry," he said, his voice hoarse, his eyes straying towards his feet.

Sean reached out to tilt up Viggo's chin and searched his eyes. "No, don't be," he said simply. "Just go be with her and Henry. There'll be time for us later, hm?"

Viggo nodded, then shook his head, frustrated. "It's just-" He swallowed, hard. "I was so much looking forward to this," he said, his voice almost inaudible, while he gestured towards the tree in the living room, only waiting for the decorations.

Sean bent down to drop a soft kiss onto the crown of his head. "So was I," he admitted quietly, and around his waist he could feel Viggo's embrace tighten.

"Get packed while I make dinner?" he suggested after a couple of moments only filled with heartbeats and regret. Against his chest Viggo nodded wordlessly before he heard him sigh and he pushed himself up into a standing position. "Thank you," he said quietly, regarding Sean for a long moment before a small smile flitted over his face and he cupped Sean cheeks in his palms, pulling him into a soft kiss.

 

** 2007 **

Sean squinted at the amber liquid in front of him. The bottle was already half empty and it wasn't even dark yet. Damn.

With a badly trembling hand he reached out to refill his glass. He poured, tossed back his head and swallowed, the burning sensation in his throat a welcome distraction from the tears stinging in his eyes.

He could still hear Viggo's voice ringing in his ears, the anger tightly woven around the syllables: "I don't know what to tell you anymore. And I don't think it even matters because you just don't trust me, do you? God, Sean, I'm so tired of these endless discussions, these accusations, I don't- what on earth is it you want?"

His eyes had been hard, then, as his voice had been, and although Sean had known that it was just a layer of protection that Viggo drew up in moments like that, something that just served to hide the pain that Sean's words caused him, Sean had not been able to reach out and apologize, the sting of jealousy too acute, too vivid the images his mind conjured, the images of Viggo and Ariadna, Ariadna and Viggo, together somewhere in Spain, just out of his reach, whispering words into each others' ears, words that he didn't understand, probably would never understand, and Viggo's smile, that little intimate, private smile, the smile that he had thought belonged to him, along with Viggo's heart.

"I want you to stop seeing her." It had been the wrong thing to say, of course, and even worse, he had known it.

For a long moment there had only been silence and Viggo had just looked at him, without a single words while sadness had replaced the anger in his eyes.

"I'm not going to stop seeing her." Viggo's tone had not left room for discussion. And yet, there had been more words, heated, angry, sad, there had been tears and shattered china, shattered dreams, and Viggo had tried to reason with him, still, after all that he had said, had shouted, had spit out. Forever optimistic. But Sean hadn't let him.

"Maybe we should take a break."

Maybe Viggo hadn't even meant those words, he had been weary, they had been at this for hours and hours. But the words had cut like a knife and Sean had felt his heart stumble. Before he knew what was happening he had leashed out like a cornered animal, all instinct and no higher cognitive control:

"So that you can finally fuck her without having to deal with a bad conscious?"

Sean hadn't thought that there were any tears left after all those that had already been shed, but when Viggo had pushed himself off the floor, there had been wetness glistening in his eyes. Without another word he had picked up his jacket and left and Sean had not found his voice in time to call after him.

And that had been that.

Merry Christmas to me, Sean thought, refilling his glass once more. Just a bottle of whiskey to keep him company and his phone, forever silent, a deadweight in his pocket. And the tears of course, the tears that wouldn't cease, the tears that blurred the edges of the bottle in front of him, leaving salty traces on his cheeks, the back of his hands, his sweater when he angrily dabbed at them.

He should just call him. Maybe he was sitting there with his phone in his hand, too, alone, on Christmas Eve. Maybe. If he wasn't already back in Madrid. Feliz Navidad, eh?

He would have to paint over the whiskey colored stain on the kitchen wall and pick up all the tiny the pieces of glass before the girls came over, but not now, not now. Now he needed another drink.

 

** 2010 **

Dear Sean,

I am posting this letter after the holidays on purpose, it's not the mailman's fault if it doesn't reach you before the new year starts. I have been thinking about this for a long time, and I simply am not sure if you would be pleased to find seasonal greetings from me on your doorstep before Christmas. But I am invariably thinking about you, now that the year comes to its end, a lot, to be honest, and I don't want to let another year pass before telling you this. What I am trying to say,I think, is, that I miss you being a part of my life. It's not any more complicated than that, but not any less either, I'm afraid. I'm not sure if I have any right to tell you this, but I never thought things would turn out the way they did, for all it's worth; and I simply can't get over losing you as a friend in the process. I miss laughing with you, and traveling with you and I miss our conversations.

Please write to me, or call me, and tell me how you feel about this? Please. A plain and simple 'no' via email or text will do if you think our friendship is past resuscitation attempts. But if imaginable and possible I would very much like to meet with you next year. You are of course always welcome in Madrid, I would love to show you the city as I have come to know it, away from the touristic sites, but I can understand if you would rather meet on neutral territory. London maybe?

I miss you, Sean.

Un abrazo,  
Viggo

 

** 2013 **

There is a gust of cold wind and the veranda door creaks in its hinges when he pushes it open. Viggo is leaning against the bannister, his gaze directed into the black sky above them.

"Don't you want to come back in?" Sean asks, stepping out onto the cold floor boards. "Your cigarette is long gone."

Viggo turns around with a smile and stretches out one hand towards him. "In a moment. The stars are beautiful."

Sean walks over to him and wraps his arms around him from behind. "They are," he says quietly, pressing a soft kiss to the back of Viggo's head before resting his chin on his shoulder. "But I don't want you to catch a cold."

"I won't, now that you are here." Viggo shifts his weight and leans back against him, and his hands find Sean's where they are wrapped around his waist. "This is nice," he murmurs, turning his head to press a soft kiss against Sean's cheek.

"It is," Sean agrees, pulling Viggo even closer against his chest, sharing the heat of his body.

Viggo laughs softly, and his thumb traces a pattern on Sean's wrist. "You know," he says in a half-whisper, "I was planning on getting up tonight and decorating the tree but right now I think I won't go anywhere and will just stay curled up with you in bed."

"You must be exhausted. You flew halfway around the world today," Sean places a tender kiss behind Viggo's left ear.

"There's no place I'd rather be right now," Viggo says quietly, turning his head to capture Sean's lips.

There is another gust of wind and Viggo shivers in his arms. "Let's get you to bed," Sean whispers. "We can decorate the tree together tomorrow."

"Just one more more moment?" Viggo asks, resting his cheek against Sean's and pulling his arms more tightly around himself. "Maybe there's a shooting star and I can wish for a white Christmas."

"Alright," Sean says, dropping a kiss onto Viggo's shoulder before burying his nose in his sweater and breathing in his smell, content to just hold him after weeks spent apart. "Another moment."


End file.
